


the pencil

by yikelliot



Series: eyewitness week october 2017 [1]
Category: Eyewitness (US TV)
Genre: Cute, First Meetings, Fluff, Lukas is a flustered gay, M/M, Philip is a flirt, Philkas Week, Swearing, The OC is the teacher, i can't tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 08:17:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12384396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yikelliot/pseuds/yikelliot
Summary: lukas can't focus very hard on many things. noises distract him and many things bore him.philip is not one of them.(or the first meeting)





	the pencil

“Lukas.”

 

I whip my head up and try to focus on Rose. “Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?”

Today is loud. It’s the third day back from summer now, so everyone is back from vacation. The parking lot is packed with kids; running to classes, talking, generally being loud.

I’ve never really liked noise. I find it distracting. It’s one of the reasons I like motocross so much: my helmet blocks all the noise save for the roaring engine. It seems ironic considering the fact that a bike isn’t the quietest of vehicles, but I don’t mind it. White noise is okay.

It’s the noises that people make that get to me.

 

And Rose is still talking. Shit. I haven’t been paying any attention. She gets annoyed when I ignore her. I almost feel bad, it’s not her fault that I can’t concentrate.

The bell rings and I walk past Rose without saying goodbye. My backpack is heavy as I stare down at my phone and head to my math class, bumping into kids along the way. I feel like an asshole, as usual.

 

I look up from the device. Third door down to the left. I walk in to a room filled with students’ rowdy bullshit. Great. The teacher isn’t here yet and people are throwing paper balls and being a fucking nuisance. I sigh and take a seat near the middle by a window. It’s close enough to the board so I don’t have to strain my eyes. I need glasses, but I can’t be assed to wear them and I find contacts uncomfortable.

I take my books out of my bag and look around for a second. No one seems to be sitting in my row, which I expected. It’s not that kids don’t like me— unfortunately they do— it’s just that no one sits in the middle row. The people that give a shit about the class sit in the front, and the slackers in the back. 

The teacher comes in and quiets everyone down. The lesson starts, but the noise is still there. The relentless hum of people murmuring to their friends, the teacher delving into linear and exponential functions. I should pay attention, I really should. But I have a race coming up and my dad wants me to get sponsors and Rose wants to know why I haven’t told her I love her yet.

 

The door opens once again. I end up staring at a too-big leather jacket. The boy is almost swamped as he retreats into the fabric. He’s new as far as I can tell.

“Sorry, is this Mr Todd’s math class?” His voice is quiet and low. It’s comforting. Everyone’s finally stopped making fucking noise. We’re all observing. Waiting.

“Yes it is. Please have a seat,” He starts walking. “Class, this is Philip Shea. He’s a transfer from Queens and I expect you all to make him feel welcome.”  
The murmuring starts up again and I realise he’s been walking towards my row. I try not to stare.

 

And then he sits right the fuck next to me.

Resting hand on head and elbow on desk, he quirks an eyebrow at me. Smiles a little.

My stomach drops. I feel like such a pussy but I’m melting. He’s fucking gorgeous. But I gotta focus if I want to pass this class. And I’m not supposed to stare at boys. Not here. Not in this way.

 

My hands are shaking slightly at the thought as I dig out a pencil. So much that I drop the stupid thing. I sit there and blink at it for a second. Close my eyes and sigh.

The pencil is gone when I open them back up. I sit up straight quickly and look back at Philip. He’s got the pencil between his fingers and a fucking smirk on his face.

I grab a different pencil and turn back to the board, my eyes darting to him every few minutes or so. I try and take notes, I really do, but I can’t pay attention when probably the hottest guy I’ve ever seen is sitting right across from me, twirling my pencil between his long fingers.

 

“You know, I have a camera. I can take a picture if you want. It lasts way longer.” 

Holy fuck. He caught me fucking staring. I’m dead. Oh wow his fucking smirk I’m so dead.

 

I need to get out of here.

 

I spend the rest of the period bouncing my foot on the linoleum, trying my best to prevent my eyes from drifting.

The bell finally rings. I’m already packed up and practically jump out of my seat. I rush out the door and into the corridor. I don’t look back when I start to run to my locker.

 

Code input. Math book shoved inside. I stop to catch my breath, ease my pounding heart. It’s not because of the running.

“You never got your pencil back.” I jump at the sound of Philip’s voice. I hesitate before turning towards him. Fucking hell— his eyes.

“Oh! Y-yeah thanks, man.” 

 

Goddamnit, he’s smiling again as he hands me that damn pencil. I make damn sure our hands don’t brush, but he didn’t seem to get the memo.

My hand is on fucking fire. I don’t want to see him ever again after this. But I know that’s not possible. Everyone knows everyone in this school, in this town. I wouldn’t be able to avoid him forever.

 

I also don’t want to.

 

“H-hey, you said you had a camera, right? I do motocross and I really need sponsors, do you think you could film me?”

Fuck. Choice words, Lukas. Choice words.

Philip only smiles wider.

“Sure.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked that  
> I'm gonna be doing this for the Philkas week!
> 
> I will also post this on my Tumblr: http://leeisdark.tumblr.com/post/166473410459/the-pencil
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> ~Lee


End file.
